The Arena
by DreamerOfWorldss
Summary: There are places where one should pray to never end up. For if you enter them a Gladiator- you will never leave, aside for in death. Battles to death are the norm there. But all is changed when someone escapes.. Multi genres/pairing CO-WRITTEN
1. Prologue

**Hello people! So this is a new (and hopefully _e_-****pic**** XD) story that my fanfic friend, the amazing **Oky Verlo **(whose other stories you should totally check!) and Yours Truly, are co-writing!**

**Genres: **Romance, Friendship, Fantasy, Drama, Action, Supernatural**…etc XP**

**Disclaimer: **we own nothing but the plot!

**Enjoy~**

**Prologue-**

There are places in this world where one should pray to never end up. Places that are so horrible, they seem more like a myth than reality. Places where men are treated like dogs, women like dirt, and children as in consequential. Places where it is so dark, so cold, and so lonely that even though you are surrounded, death becomes an elusive wish rather than a frightening  
>promise.<p>

There are names for these places, but no one wishes to utter them, for fear. Simple fear that the powers that may be, the powers running these places, would hear you, and ship you off with the next batch of 'unfortunate missing'; the people with no-one to miss them, and the people sold off for gain or amusement. The worst of these, the most terrifying of these places, is the Arena. One of the oldest, most decrepit structures, which everyone can see, but no one notices. People live right next to it, its doors across the street. They can hear the screams, the cries; they can hear the children wailing, the women crying, the men dying, and the cold, cruel laughter of the ones who watch. Sometimes, they are the ones who watch.

They are not the ones suffering from abuse, be it in the Ring by the hand of a person desperate to survive, or by the hand of wardens punishing those who pose a risk to the entertaining factor of the bloody battles, striking the 'prisoners' with coils of magic force. They are not in danger, so why not enjoy the show?

Everyone lucky enough, smart enough, or rich enough to not be thrown into the chains of pointless struggles, leads a 'normal' life; They get up everyday, they talk to people, the adults go to work, and the children make their way to school. Adults work to use the powers their years in school uncovered, and the children try their best to unlock their own to impress their family. But all of them hope to never uncover the ability to combine all three spectrums of magic.

Light- used for healing, growth, beauty and fortune telling.

Dark- used for building, divining, and destruction.

Neutral, more often known as Soul magic- used for control, comfort and harmony.

Often, a person who has the misfortune of possessing two spectrums is collected and placed behind the walls of the Arena and its sister strongholds never to see the sky or the sun again.

And they never will, for no one who enters the Arena a Gladiator will exit as anything other than a corpse. Once you are in, there is only one way out. That is the way it has always been.

Until one blessed with the perfect balance between all three spectrums ran away.

* * *

><p>Sooo, who could this <em>'someone'<em> possibly be, hmm...==pp

Now guys, the two of us would LOVE to hear if the Prologue got your interest and you want us to continue the story! So **review**! XD if enough people will review and say they liked- next chapter is almost done!

**Luv you all!**

**Oky Verlo and **Evermore****


	2. Chapter 1 The Escapee

**Hello everyone! First chapter now up! As always, we disclaim ownership over anything but the plot!**

**please read&review!**

Written by **Oky Verlo** and myself~

**Enjoy!**

**Chapter One- The Escapee**

"You made it."

It was a dark, silent night, especially here in Watanuki's store.

Three figures- two of them cloaked in black, their face hidden, one dressed in elaborate, beautiful kimono, stood in an unbroken silent for a long moment, before the kimono-clad young-looking man smiled.

"I must say I had my doubts regarding your success, but I'm glad to see you weren't exaggerating when you said nothing could stop you" his mismatched eyes- one golden, one dark blue- gazed straight at the taller figure, waiting.

As one, the two others revealed their faces. One had midnight-blue hair and mischievous azure eyes- Hiragizawa Eriol. The other, the one on whom Watanuki's eyes were still trained, had downy hair and pair of pure black eyes- so dark and fathomless it was disturbing to keep looking at them.

He was Li Syaoran, known as the Arena's most feared Gladiator, and one of its youngest to survive for so many years.

"You should have never worried." The Arena's first ever escapee said in colorless tone, his voice a little raspy from long disuse.

Eriol took a step back, becoming one with the shadows the full moon outside casted on the store's inside.

"Just didn't want you to ruin it, since I'm still intending on visiting the Arena when possible. I didn't want my cover blown."

A strange look passed the Arena fighter for a moment. "You don't need to worry about me giving away secrets. If anything, I'm the Arena's Masters' worst enemy." He spat, hatred quickly coloring and consuming his magic aura dangerous black.

Watanuki smiled again. "I have a fake identity and all the necessary certificates for you almost ready. I only need a picture of you." His unnerving eyes bore into Syaoran's, his face not revealing any of his thoughts about the supposedly impossible fit the young man performed earlier that day, or the alarming speed with which Syaoran's mood changed to pre-fight one.

No one has ever escaped the Arena. No one left but as a lifeless corpse. And yet, the insane plan Eriol and his cousin drew out worked; Syaoran was free.

The Arena's most legendary warrior, known to the watchers as the Angel of Death, returned Watanuki's stare with a mild one of his own.

Syaoran's posture was now relaxed, but the two other men in the room saw him fight; they knew he was the most dangerous when appeared harmless.

"That will prove a problem. I am too widely known- people will recognize me immediately, and I will have to forever be on the run. I can't afford that- I have unfinished business to take care of." His deep amber eyes flashed bright gold with his last words.

"I already thought of that, Syaoran," Eriol, who was leaning against Watanuki's store's private back-room's wall, broke into the discussion. He was only half-aware of the conversation up to this point, having running his Sensory Webs to overlap and cover any possible opening in Watanuki's own. "No one will expect to find the Angel of Death- or for the point, any warrior of the Arena- out in the open. And the rumors of your escape won't begin for a few more days, as the Arena's Masters and Patrons will try to cover their asses by recapturing you while also eliminating any possible leak in their security." Eriol smiled his Cheshire-cat smile, but his eyes were hard sapphires. "In the meantime, you will spend as much time as possible in the sun so your skin will tan a bit- you're Arena-pale-" he grinned, "-and we will help your hair grow out faster with some magic touch. Your appearance will change enough."

"My eyes," it wasn't a question. Syaoran knew as well as his two friends that colored contacts won't help- his magic will destroy or change their color the first time he uses it.

Now Eriol looked so smug Syaoran was tempted to hit him. "That was why I told you to always release even a little of your spectrums-combined magic- because whenever you use all three spectrums at ones or releasing bigger amount of magic, your eyes turns pure black. And thanks to my genius thinking, black is the only eye color associated with you, so all you need to do is avoid a magic-use that will affect their color!"

Now both Syaoran and Watanuki looked at him with a raised brow each. "Don't tell us you've been planning it all from the very beginning."

"Well…"

"Shut up Eriol." They both growled at the same time.

The azure-eyed boy grinned at them again, raising his hands in a 'calm down' gesture. Then his expression became more somber and serious. "I'm really sorry you had to stay there for so many years, cousin. I'm sorry I couldn't do more."

The boy with the military-short cut hair kept eye contact with his cousin, "I know, Eriol. Thanks." The hard amber of his eyes softened a fraction, and Eriol was relived to see that not all of his cousin and best friend's soul was destroyed in the cruelty of the Arena. Maybe there was still hope.

S&S

It was three weeks later and very early in the morning when a now-tanned and longer-haired Syaoran sat in Watanuki's garden, leaning back against a sakura tree and looking at the sky that he felt a disturbance in the elements.

He was gazing up at the sky till this point. _The sky sure _is_ a beautiful yet somehow intimidating thing- vast and endless and eternal… I already forgot how such simple things could affect your mood… clear, blue sky, beautiful sakura flowers…_ the store's sakura tree bloomed all year round, thanks to some boost from the owner's powerful neutral magic.

That was when he felt it- a wave that left a strangely dreadful feeling in his guts, making him restless, coming over him and disappearing just as quickly.

He didn't even realize he was already on his feet, eyes bottomless black, ready to fight whatever it was that alarmed him on such a foundational level.

"What did I say about your using your magic like that?" his cousin joined him, and Syaoran had to make a conscious effort to relax his battle-ready muscles.

"You felt it too?" he ignored the half-hearted scolding words.

When an answer didn't come, he turned to his azure-eyed cousin, to find him looking distant and troubled.

"I didn't want to say anything with everything that happened, but waves like that- it wasn't the first I felt. They wash over everything and everyone strong enough to notice. I'm used to it, and people already found some 'reasonable explanation to the phenomenon', as the news likes to say, but those waves have been appearing more and more lately…"

"Is it a possible danger?"

"Not that I noticed."

"Then it doesn't matter to me."

Eriol sighed. "You can't close up like that. If you become too tangled up in your goal for revenge, you will lose yourself in the process."

A serene look that Eriol found more worrying and disturbing than the elemental waves softened his cousin's sharp features. "There is nothing left for me beside revenge, Eriol, so as long as I _can_ have revenge, nothing else matters- not what happens to me, not what I have to do for it. I'm not really expecting to survive the ordeal, as you always knew."

Eriol watched his cousin with eyes narrowed with annoyance. The building tension, however, was cut by Watanuki's arrival- for which the two young men were grateful.

"Are you two ready?" the store owner asked with his ever-calm voice, though amusement colored his expression. "Aren't you excited for your first day of school two days from now?" he asked with mocking excitement.

Syaoran glare at him. "Let's get it over with." He stood still against one of the store's white walls and looked blandly at his now grinning dark haired so-called friends.

"What?" he snapped finally.

"You look _soo_ intimidating like that Syaoran-kun! Won't you smile for us?" Eriol imitated a young girl's voice.

"Shut up."

"Now, now, my cute little cousin this is no way to-" his sentence was cut by his surprised yell as he rubbed his throbbing backside. "What did you electrocute me for?"

"For being annoying, what else? Now take the fucking picture already!"

"Such a bad-tempered brat… Aw!"

S&S

"Let's go over it all again, shall we?"

"Watanuki, it's the third time."

"It's my reputation- not to mention my life- I'm putting on the line for you, so I strongly suggest you to shut up and do as I say."

Syaoran and Eriol exchanged a meaningful look, and for the first time in what he felt was forever, Syaoran felt the urge to smile.

"Well?" Watanuki demanded, irritated. "What are you waiting for?"

"I thought you told me to shut up?"

"Smart-ass."

"Why, thank you."

"Li Syaoran, if you still want to have a place to come back to, to hide and lick your wounds, you better not annoy me too much."

At the use of his full name, all the light feeling left the former Arena fighter. His stance became more rigid and formal, his face close and unreadable once more.

"I am to appear as a normal, average student and investigate quietly and without rousing suspicions. I will pretend to be a dark spectrum lightning and fire user and nothing more. I will not get too close to anyone, but also not single myself out to the point of rising curiosity. I am to never use all three spectrums for anything other than Sensing other magic users."

"Good. And remember- whether you come back here or over to Eriol's, you must make sure no one follows you or notice where you go. And above all, try and stay out of trouble, would you? And avoid discussions about the Arenas- your opinions are too obvious."

"Whatever."

"Good then. There is only one more thing you should know about your future classmates."

S&S

As the two of them made their way on foot to the school gates, Eriol let out an elaborated sigh- again.

"Would you stop glaring at me?"

Still too mad to risk a verbal reply, Syaoran kept his amber-flashing-black- eyes on his supposedly 'best friend'.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you! I wasn't hundred percent sure myself until last year- and you were in no condition-"

"Don't." the chocolate-haired boy's voice was so tightly controlled, it barely sounded human.

"Syaoran, she doesn't know herself. She was a little kid when they moved, and from what I gathered, her parents kept silent about any relation to your family- which I believe is the only reason they are still alive and free. She didn't remember me… and she won't remember you."

It was both a relief and annoyance to realize he could still be emotionally hurt, to know that anything could still reach deep enough inside him to matter, to actually cause him feel pain and loss. For years he was sure he was the last of his clan; him and Eriol, who was adopted by his aunt and uncle and not blood-related. And now to find out like that… to know there were three more people with blood and marriage relation to the lost Li Clan…

He only vaguely recalled his cousin's personality. She was a clingy girl all those  
>years ago, and, really, he didn't know how he will react to his meeting with her in class. He wasn't sure he could handle it without breaking down or losing his senses completely. What he did know with certainty was, if he ever found out that either she or her parents were in danger, he will gladly let go of any and all pretence about being anyone other than a child of the brutal Arena, and do whatever it takes to eliminate the threat.<p>

"Syaoran…" Eriol's voice snapped him out of his darkening thoughts. "We are here. And if you don't do something about your rage-filled aura, we might as well just drop the whole thing. It's hard enough to mask your presence as a triple-spectrum user- which, might I add, you stopped doing the moment I said the name 'Li Meiling'."

Breathing deep while fighting to get his destructive nature under control, Syaoran cursed himself, Eriol and the situation in general, silently and colorfully, earning a raised eyebrow from his azure-eyed cousin.

"Who taught you all those… _interesting_ phrases, hmm?"

"I never had to actually hide my real abilities and nature in the Arena. I'm still getting used to it." he ignored Eriol's amused tone and turned toward the school with one last glare in the other boy's direction.

The next moment Eriol had him by the shoulder, turning Syaoran to face his now-serious face.

"Do it ever again, and next time you might not be so lucky," the black-eyed boy said softly, referring to his ready-to-strike and magic-fueled right hand which stopped its momentum in the last second and now rested lightly against the side of his cousin's neck. "Such a fragile thing can too easily be broken in one moment of carelessness…"

Clenching his hands- one still holding on to his cousin and the other resting by his side, Eriol fought to keep his expression calm, to hide the sharp spike of fear that threatened to color his aura.

"This isn't the Arena, Syaoran. You are free now, and in no more immediate danger. Try and remember that when you are here. These people- these kids- they could be oblivious and silly and sometimes mean to each other, but they are _harmless_. They are no threat. You _must_ have a better control!"

Eyes bleeding slowly back to a more human color, Syaoran stroked his cousin's neck and shoulder in that horrible, terrifying gentleness before stepping away and smiling a crooked, bitter half-smile.

"Don't worry about me so much, cousin. I'm half way gone already anyway. Too late for you to save me. I only need to have my way with the bastards who ruined so many lives, and then _no one_ will need to worry about people like me ever again." Shrugging nonchalantly, he stepped away from Eriol. "Come on, we don't wanna be late, right?"

S&S

He could feel his blood pounding through his body, rushing oxygen and adrenaline  
>through his system, the moment the first student passed them. He was tense, and really, how could he not be? He had managed to escape the Arena, the mortal combat zone so dangerous that it violated pretty much every human right, and everything human in its inhabitants. And if he was found out, he was a dead man, and the Arena's Patrons will use every means necessary to get out from him he names of the people who helped in his escape.<p>

Syaoran glanced at his just-as-tense companion.

Eriol kept close to his cousin as the two made their way slowly towards the Dean's office, painfully aware of the danger of these first moments as they got surrounded by walls and students and so much _noise_- like the never-ceasing buzz made by the audience of the Arena that drove some of the warriors there mad.

Smiling pleasantly- a rather fake smile- at the students and few teachers they passed (who, more often than not, also stopped and stared quite openly at the 'new face', as new students were called), Eriol continuously talking to the blank-eyed Syaoran, gently mumbling that while they were loud and energetic and erratic, the people around them were of little to no threat, and that the only threat they might present was that they might accidently zap them with magic.

It took Syaoran conscious effort to at least _appear_ relaxed- while on the inside he was fighting against the very instinct which kept him alive until now- to strike first, and strike hard.

_How the hell am I supposed to do this?_ He glared at every person who stropped to look him over or who didn't move fast enough from his way.

Yes, he understood the term 'to hide a tree in the forest', but come on! His life in the Arena has trained him to survive- usually by killing or mortally injuring his opponent, and through any means possible. How the hell was he going to pull off being a regular, average student, when the first thing his mentor in the Arena- the person to whom he owed his very life, the same way he owed Eriol and Watanuki his questionable sanity- was that only the strong survived?It was troublesome enough just to remember to keep his magic in check…

He won't miss being a Gladiator, but he will miss the Arena's whole 'never let down your guard and treat anyone as an enemy' silent policy. Even though Watanuki had done what he could magically to alter his appearance to make him less recognizable, Syaoran knew he stood out. First of all, he was taller than most, and secondly, constant fighting tended to make one muscle up.

His racing heartbeats, which he managed to calm earlier, picked up again. He couldn't help it. His nerves were already on high-alert and battle-ready mode, his senses trying to figure from where the attack would come, the threat of being recaptured never far from his mind, and now he had to put up with the hyperactive little nit-wits who called themselves magic users despite their obvious incapability in recognizing _real_ magic if it hit them straight in the face (though, he mused, it was sure to make an interesting show). Not to mention the happy-go-freakin'-lucky bastard claiming to be his best friend, and the happy-go-fuck-yourself-so-called-friend who was giving him a place to stay and kept him hidden while making his life hell by working Syaoran to his heart's content as a way for the latter to pay him back for the school fees Watanuki took care of.

And then there were those _waves. _

Eriol might have said not to worry about them, and in all honestly, if they truly weren't a threat then Syaoran didn't give a damn what they were, but they became more and more frequent even in the two days since he felt his first one, and Syaoran learned long ago that his own judgment was the only one he could really trust.. So when the next wave disturbed the elements, he focused on it and tried to truck its source and figure the intent or cause behind it.

He felt no danger of malice intent, but he also couldn't feel anything else. Like those waves weren't yet sure of their own nature. It was like... they were searching for something; like they were flowing through the air looking for a very specific something...

Or a very specific person.

Closing his eyes briefly, Syaoran breathed deeply and tuned out the noise and different presences around him.

"You okay?" Eriol's voice pierced through the momentary calm the amber-eyed boy managed to reach.

Blinking and refocusing on his surrounding, Syaoran saw that they reached their destination- the Dean's office. Eriol knocked on the door, and a deep, masculine voice granted them entrance.

"Eriol. So this is our new student," the Dean, a middle-aged man with dark and slightly graying hair and ice-cold blue eyes, said in a way of greeting.

Syaoran just nodded, while Eriol smiled and answered the Dean's expected question regarding Syaoran's enrolling in the middle of the school year with their prepared-in-advance story, to which Syaoran didn't bother listening again. Instead, he thought again of the reason he was here.

Through methods he was certain were not legal (a fact about which, frankly, he couldn't care less), Watanuki had found out that a Patron of the Arena was closely associated with this school- and more than just by being a parent of a student.

So Syaoran would find the bastard, and through him- the ones who destroyed his family. And after he was done with them (namely making sure they will meet their early end in a slow and painful way), he will finally find peace.

When Eriol and the Dean were done with their unimportant (as far as Syaoran was concerned) discussion, the Dean asked him a few questions, and the still uncomfortable and over-aware boy answered as normally as he could ("what sort of education have you had?", "The best one possible". "What did you learn?", "Whatever I could").

_What a moron_, if he were anyone else, Syaoran would have been snickering. Had the Dean had gone through his new student's _real_ 'education', he would probably shit himself, and then fall into depression. Most Gladiators did, so a civilian was screwed.

"I can see that you are already familiar with Eriol. For that reason I would normally ask  
>him to escort you around the school, but he is one of our best students and we<br>really can't afford for him to fall behind on his classes-" _meaning, you think  
><em>I_'ll drag _him_ down. Sure, fucker_, "-so we will get one of the other students to  
>show you around the place."<p>

The Dean's words sure didn't help Syaoran's foul sarcasm. _What? You don't care that _they_ might fall behind, too?_ _Bias much Fuckwit?_

The principal went and made a call on the phone to his secretary, (_Seriously?_ _She is right  
>outside your door you lazy-<em> _whoa,_ _maybe Eriol _was_ right and I _do_ need  
>to cut down on the obscenities... no, wait, scratch that; Eriol is never right<em>), and  
>asked to get a student to help the newbie around. By this point Syaoran's blank expression was covering a very detailed fantasy involving the old man, himself, and his favorite knife. Really, 's not like anyone would actually <em>miss<em> him… _And I think I would be revered for the deed, really_.

A few silent minutes later the door opened. The Dean explained that the new arrival- a student Syaoran and Eriol's age- will show him everything he would need to make himself comfortable at the school.

"I leave him in your hands, Yamazaki Takashi."

* * *

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**Toddles and love,**

**Evermore** and Oky Verlo!


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